


Aster's Town

by GretchenSinister



Series: My Top 10 JackRabbit Fics [13]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, But also, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "I just want to see an AU where Jack is a magician, be it a fake prankster or a real practicing wizard or what I don’t careJust give me Jack making rabbits come out of hats and Bunnymund being unamused?I’ll love you forever?inspired by this picture on tumblr (http://24.media.tumblr.com/241ba1f9edeb2d37da2ee84fc018bf32/tumblr_mfrn7l4FfS1r3g5kwo1_500.png)If someone’s already prompted with this, my badAnd make it as Gen or romantic as you want, I don’t mind anythingI also like Jack/Tooth, if that helps?"This one was interesting. I might like to spend more time with this AU in the future. It’s the 1930s, and Jack’s trying to survive as a travelling illusionist because his wizard mentor disappeared. He finds a surprisingly happy town, and another wizard, and decides to not move on right away.
Relationships: E. Aster Bunnymund/Jack Frost
Series: My Top 10 JackRabbit Fics [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589287
Kudos: 26
Collections: JackRabbit Short Fics





	Aster's Town

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 10/22/2015.

“What do you think, Wind?” Jack asked the gray pony that pulled the wooden wagon he’d called home for a while now. “Does this place look likely?” It had better be likely. With the harvest being taken in and the air turning frosty, Jack needed to either make some money to travel south or find a place that would let him settle down till spring. The trouble was, most of the towns and villages he had passed through for the past weeks didn’t have much use for magic of the kind he could produce, and too much for the kind he couldn’t.  
  
Sure, his teacher, Manny Moon, had been a genuine, bona-fide wizard, and he had said that Jack showed a lot of promise, but most of what Jack could do now was nothing but glamour and spectacle, the kind of thing that could be faked by anyone dedicated and clever enough. And that’s what Jack had had to get by with, since Manny had left him a note saying nothing but: I had to go. I’ll find you when I get back.  
  
It was a terse way of telling him to go and seek his fortune on his own, but illusionists were popular enough for a time, and once Jack polished up his patter and word got around about how professional he was, he managed to make enough money to get a place that wasn’t Manny’s. It wouldn’t do to take over his rent and have people assume he’d murdered him or something. But—professional! He didn’t ever flub his equipment or let his secrets slip because there weren’t any. It was real magic! He’d gotten a reputation as having a good sense of humor thanks to just being truthful.  
  
But then there had started a whole series of disasters, and there wasn’t a whole lot of money around for a minor illusionist to live on. He’d sold almost everything while he could still find buyers, bought a wagon, painted it in bright blue, white, and silver, and headed west. He’d thought that maybe out there people would be wonder-hungry enough to spend a little on a travelling showman.  
  
As it turned out, though, they were mostly just hungry, what with droughts and failing crops. Usually Jack was lucky to even get a meal at any town, if he wasn’t chased out for being frivolous or godless or shiftless or any number of unflattering adjectives. They’d welcome him if he could bring some rain or bring back the crops, but the only weather magic he could do right now was to whistle up a wind. Like hell he was going to do that in the middle of tornado country. Maybe he should see if there were any sailboat races with cash prizes. Right, that would be next, after this town—  
  
“Whoa!” he exclaimed. Wind obediently stopped, even though that hadn’t been what he meant. He had just been stunned. They had passed a small white post on the top of a gentle rise, and everything had changed. The air suddenly smelled like apples. The fields around him were golden, even if they were stubble now, and the sheaves of cornstalks that dotted them looked amazingly tall. He could see trees around the farmhouses and in the little copses that surrounded ponds and wide spots in streams in better times, and they were absolutely brilliant with fall colors—they looked like they were going to sleep after a fantastic party, not that they were dying. And there were still touches of green absolutely everywhere, a subtle fall green in the grass that again spoke strongly of _life_ , of the fall as a time for celebration before a peaceful, not threatening, winter.  
  
He urged Wind forward again. This place was incredible! What was going on here? There was a town close by; he could see a steeple over another low rise, but was it the luckiest town west of the Mississippi, or what?  
  
As he went on, he saw sleek, bright-eyed cows grazing in fields, lively chickens, proud horses, massive pigs, heavily-laden orchards—that would explain the apple smell, a little—and when he got into town he could only gape. The streets were clean, the buildings well-maintained, the stores all open. And the people! All of them looked healthy—energetic! Their clothes varied as they would in any town, though without the best of the best and the worst of the worst. No man wore shoes that couldn’t touch the dust, but no little girl was wearing a dress made of flour sacks, either. Frankly, it was absolutely shocking. Jack had become used to his wagon being the brightest thing in some of the towns he came to, but now he hastily put a glamour over it so that the whitewash on the buildings wouldn’t make a mockery of the silver on his cart.  
  
By the time he reached the town square—no bare spots on the grass there, even in front of the gazebo, from which hung a sign that promised dancing on Saturday night—he snapped out of his astonishment to notice that he’d acquired a following of curious children. Immediately, he grinned. So this town was a fluke. It was also exactly what he had hoped for when he left the city. He leaped lightly to the roof of his cart and began to introduce himself, asking the wind to carry his voice through the town.  
  


* * *

  
  
Jack peeked out from between the soft red curtains of the town’s movie theater. By popular vote, and because there were no new movies to show, the town had decided that Jack would perform on the stage in front of the screen. It had been well over a year since Jack had been on a stage that wasn’t the wall of his cart, and stage fright had him in its familiar grip. He nervously tapped his fist against his thigh—ah, but just because he was on a stage didn’t mean he was in front of a city audience. He had to remember that. The people out there, this place—they were just good. They weren’t perfect. He just needed to be good. Not perfect.  
  
Admittedly, Jack had been surprised when he noticed a slight draft in the theater. He’d thought the buildings would be as solid as the trees. Now that he knew they weren’t—it nagged at him. He felt like he was supposed to notice something, maybe something that would explain this place. When getting some feed for Wind, he’d remarked on the fineness of the town, and, yes, the man at the store was aware of it, but he just said they were lucky.  
  
Yeah, well, that and a rabbit’s foot would make you all the dinner you’d get in the next town over.  
  
Those thoughts could keep. It was almost time to perform, now. The bright clink of dimes—to be split evenly between the owner of the movie theater and himself—was slowing, and pretty much every seat was filled. The whole town seemed to be here. Including—oh, now that was interesting. There was a wizard here. Jack hoped they weren’t the type to heckle.  
  


* * *

  
  
The show was going along beautifully, despite a good portion of Jack’s attention being devoted to figuring out who in the town was a wizard. It hadn’t been any of the likely people he had called onto the stage as volunteers—which, admittedly, could have backfired spectacularly—and the wizard wasn’t in any of the seats Jack could easily see from the stage. That was unusual. He had met a few other wizards when he was Manny’s apprentice, and they had always been practically in each other’s pockets trying to steal each other’s secrets.  
  
Maybe this town’s wizard could tell that Jack didn’t know much. That was pretty likely, honestly. Or maybe he was just too powerful to care. That was also likely, frighteningly so, since Jack could sense him so strongly but he wasn’t near him at all. Where, oh where was that sense coming from? If the wizard _did_ something, it would be easier to find him.  
  
In the midst of a routine where Jack apparently turned a table set for dinner incorporeal (the tricky part was getting the volunteer to believe it had been solid in the first place), Jack felt it. Magic. Capital-M, deep-rolling-thunder-type Magic. It hit him like a punch in the gut, and he had to think quickly, playing it off like he had accidentally got stuck in the center of the table, mugging to the audience with surprise that was mostly genuine. They roared, but Jack felt himself approaching panic. What was the wizard going to _do_ with all that power? He swiveled his head toward the source of the magic, and aha! Finally! The wizard!  
  
He was a farmer in overalls standing at the back of the lower level of the theater, clean-shaven, with a lined, tanned face that still looked somehow young, with gray hair that was unfashionably long. The wizard couldn’t be anyone else back there—Jack could only see this one man clearly, a side effect of their magics recognizing each other.  
  
And then, just as startlingly as it had arrived, the magic retreated, like water being soaked up like a sponge. Jack’s patter increased tenfold as he tried to cover his uneasiness. Magic just didn’t go away like that without _something_ happening.  
  
It wasn’t until he heard the sound from outside that Jack managed to calm himself a little. Rain. That’s where the magic had gone. That wizard had just made it rain. Manny had said that kind of thing was impossible! And when the sky had been so cloudless when he arrived…Jack realized in a flash that this wizard was responsible for the town. Every square inch of it that was being saved from the troubles of the outside world. He probably walked the borders regularly, and that’s what Jack had first noticed. He had felt that he was entering the beloved domain of the most powerful earth mage and weather worker he would have dared to imagine.  
  
He looked toward the wizard again, who met his eyes with a pair startlingly green and a small smile, revealing, of all things, buck teeth. He knew that Jack knew. But did he think that Jack was going to be intimidated? As if! Manny was gone, and he still had a lot to learn. He was going to stay and make a nuisance of himself, and he wanted the wizard to know that, right now.  
  
He feigned exaggerated relief and pretended the table was solid again. He pulled a top hat from the space behind his back, and told the audience he needed a break, that he ought to do something a little traditional, now.  
  
The rabbit he pulled out of the hat had bright green eyes and gray fur, and the wizard definitely saw.  
  
This was going to be a fun winter.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags from Tumblr:
> 
> #I know there are cars around but Jack can't afford one


End file.
